Attempts to Love
by VampireAlchemist1127
Summary: Matthew is always ignored. The past few years have been hell for Matthew and nobody had noticed until he is found in the men's restroom during one of the meetings close to death, bleeding out from self inflicted wounds Franda IT IS SORT OF A HAPPY ENDING! Trigger warnings Galore. Rated M for Self-Harm, Violence, drugs, sexual abuse and some explicit sexual content in later chapters
1. Getting Caught

Attempts to Love

Hetalia Franada (France / Canada)

Rated M for Angst, Violence, Drug Use, Self-Harm, Suicide attempts, Sexual abuse and some explicit sexual content

Trigger warnings galore

Chapter 1

Matthew sat quietly through one of the many world meetings, invisible and unheard as always. As the other nations discussed Matthew watched sadly, wishing that he could participate in the conversation. He decided that he would try to be heard, attempt to put in his opinion. He was soft spoken and unheard by all. He tried again, turning up the volume to match those of the others in the room. Matthew still went unnoticed. HE started to feel the anger and frustration well up in the pit of his stomach, along with overwhelming sadness. His depression reared its ugly head. He always felt lonely and forgotten and uncared for. He had no friends and no real family. In the past few years all of his negative feelings that he had been hiding since early childhood started to reach levels that he was unable to control. He had tried every anti-depressant on the market and nothing helped him manage his sadness. He had resorted to self-harm, cutting his wrists to feel that blood loss induced high. It seemed to be one of the few times he felt happy; when his brain shut down and lost the ability to comprehend his loneliness. After nearly a year of a seeming never-ending blood flow, he began to need more to make him momentarily forget his problems. He resorted to illegal substances which only provided more problems especially on one particular day when everything went wrong. He stopped the drugs and became even more withdrawn from society. Without an outlet or anything to control his depression suicide attempts became more frequent. He spent a lot of time in the hospital because of failed tries to end his life. He missed multiple meetings per year but nobody noticed when he never showed. He often times left early from the meetings when he got upset, like he did now. He retreated to the men's restroom and after making sure he was alone he let himself cry. He turned the dial on the main door to lock it but it did not stick in that position. HE moved to sit on the counter, avoiding spots of water. He sat in the corner of the vanity against the large mirror and leaned back against the tiled wall. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his beige overcoat and curled up against himself. As he shifted to find a position that was more comfortable the pocket knife in his jean's back pocket pressed against his hip. He had promised himself to stop the cutting but still carried the blade, rationalizing it as a weapon for protection. He pulled it out of the pocket and flipped it open to reveal the razor sharp edge. He stared at his reflection in the gleaming metal, seeing the tear stained face staring back at him only made it worse. In that moment his depression escalated to thoughts and daydreams of suicide. He imagined how the others would react to finding his body laying on the counter. He felt as if nobody would care if he died, the shock would die down within a few days and they would forget him like they did now. He took the knife and held it to his wrist and paused. He took a shuddering breath before pulling the blade along his flesh. He cut deeply, no longer wanting the lightheaded feeling, he wanted to bleed out and leave his horrible past behind him and retreat into the darkness of death. It was much more painful than he was used to and gritted his teeth. The stream of tears increased in intensity as the physical pain mixed with the emotional. He watched the wound closely for a few seconds, waiting for the blood to well and drip from his arm, for his emotions to over flow and drain from him with the crimson liquid The pain eventually faded into a dull throbing and constant burnig sting. He repeated this process on the other arm and held them over the sink. He watched the dark red blood, the thing that kept him alive drip onto the porcelain and flow in small rivulets down to the drain. His tears mixed with the blood in the sink. It wasn't long until the lightheadedness started and his hearing seemed to muffle and a high pitched ringing sounded in his ears. His head lolled back until he laid limp against the tile wall. The razor slipped out of his hand and his strength diminished. He felt his breathing begin to come in short, shallow pants, his body's attempt to compensate for the continuous loss of oxygen carrying blood. His body began to feel tinglely like he was laying on a bed of pins and needles. Despite this uncomfortable feeling he was in bliss. His mind began to shut down and he could no longer process the horrors and torment that were his day to day life. The stress ebbed from his body and he laid limp against the tile wall. The blood continued to pour from his wounds and through the haze of his mind he felt like he had finally done it and his life would be over within the next few minutes.

His plan was working, that is until part of him realized that the lock had been faulty and someone had entered the bathroom. Matthew forced his eyes to open, to see the intruder, identifying him as the one man who he felt had ever cared about him, Francis. Francis stood in the door way, eyes wide with shock and disbelief. He stood, frozen to his spot until he saw Matthew's eyes flutter closed again. This broke him out of his disbelief, placing him in pure panic. Francis rushed to his side, pulling off his overcoat and pressing the fabric to Matthew's forearms in a futile attempt to stop the flow of blood.

"leave me alone" Matthew pleaded quietly, barely audible to the other man.

"Non! Why would you do this Matthew?" His voice was shaky from adrenaline and panic. Matthew didn't respond, barely even hearing Francis. "Open your eyes, look at me mon amour" Francis pleaded desperately.

Matthew did not do as he was asked, unable to even if he wanted. His body began to shut down, losing consciousness. Matthew went entirely limp against the tile wall and mirror. Francis tied the fabric around his arms then lifted him. Matthew was dead weight in his arms. Francis carried him out to his car, moving as fast as he could. Once the unconscious boy was loaded into the back seat he drove nearly twice the speed limit to the hospital.

By the time they reached the entrance to the emergency room Matthew's breathing was nearly non-existent. The breaths were shallow and few and far between. Francis stopped the car abruptly and yelled for help as he tried to pull Matthew's limp body out of the car as a pair of nurses rushed out to assist him.

The nurses took over and loaded Matthew onto a stretcher and wheeled him away, starting to attempt to stop the bleeding and pushing air into his lungs. They left Francis behind and he stood in the hallway not knowing if his friend would live.


	2. Family Matters

Attempts to Love

Hetalia Franada (France / Canada)

Rated M for Violence, Drug Use, Self-Harm, Suicide attempts, Sexual abuse, child abuse and some explicit sexual content

Trigger warnings galore

Chapter 2

It had been hours of waiting and aggravating the nurse with never ending inquiries about Matthew's health. When he wasn't annoying the nurse with questions she couldn't answer he was pacing the length of the near vacant waiting room. Francis felt like crying and yet forced himself to stay strong, knowing that if he broke down he wouldn't be able to piece himself together enough for Matthew. He wracked his brain to find reasons that his beloved friend would try to kill himself and found nothing.

Once he was given permission to see Matthew, hours after the event, he rushed into the room only to find the boy unconscious in the bed. His heart broke even more when he saw how pale Matthew was.

Matthew was almost as white as the sheets on the bed. He was hooked up to multiple machines that monitored his breathing and heartbeat.

Francis took the seat next to the bed and gently held onto Matthew's hand, avoiding the IV on the back of it.

For the next few hours he watched the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Matthew woke up late in the night to find Francis sleeping with his head lain on the edge of the bed and still holding his hand. He tried to move but he instantly felt lightheaded and sick to his stomach. He abandoned all hope of getting up to go to the bathroom within seconds and just laid back and stayed as still as he could manage to hopefully settle his stomach. It was a failed attempt and he quickly rolled away from Francis and emptied what little he had in his stomach onto the floor.

This sudden movement jarred Francis awake and he quickly helped by pulling his hair back out of his face. Once he finished Francis hurried to get a nurse.

Matthew laid in bed, panting and failing to catch his breath. His eyes fell closed and he barely clung to consciousness. The Frenchman returned with a nurse. After checking that he was okay she proceeded to clean up the mess.

"Mattie? You okay?" Francis asked in a quiet concerned tone.

"Yeah, I'm fine" he replied weakly.

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I did"

"How long were you awake before that"

"A few minutes, maybe" he whined.

"You should have woken me up before" Francis insisted.

Matthew didn't respond and simply closed his eyes.

"Don't go back to sleep on me please"

"I'm tired" he mumbled as he drifted back to sleep.

Francis sat back down in his chair and finally broke down. He left the room in order to avoid disturbing the boy's sleep.

Hours pass and Matthew remained asleep. By morning Francis was exhausted but refused to leave the hospital to rest. The nurses urged him to sleep but he always refused. He sat outside the room so Matthew could rest but he did not sleep himself.

Early in the morning he decided to call Arthur to tell him about Matthew's suicide attempt. Arthur had acted like a father figure to the boy for the early years, and despite the fighting and denial he was also one of Francis's best friends. almost like a brother. You love him and yet you can't stand him at the same time.

Arthur had been shocked, yelled a bit before hanging up after a quick promise to be there soon. Francis waited out at the door of Matthew's room until the Englishman showed up.

He stood when he saw him pushing his way past the nurses and doctors in the hall. Arthur immediately started yelling again, trying to pin the blame Francis for the whole incident and scolding him for not calling him sooner.

Little did they know that the yelling had woken Matthew up, as well as multiple other patients, and he was now watching them argue through the small window beside the door. He watched them yelling back and forth, not quite hearing the exact words because of the wall separating them.

Francis attempted to calm him down, trying to get him to lower the volume. When Arthur eventually calmed down Francis shyly asked for a hug. Arthur paused for a moment, swearing under his breath before accepting the embrace. Francis held him tight and gave him a light kiss on the cheek before pulling away. The Englishman wiped his cheek swearing some more.

"Bloody frog" he grumbled "I'm going to go get some tea. I will be back later" He then walked away down the hall.

Francis glanced in through the window to see Matthew awake. He turned away from the window, staring at the wall instead, missing the large smile and hurried entrance into the room.

"Hello" he said cheerfully "How are you feeling?"

"Get out" Matthew ordered coldly without turning back to see him.

Francis was stunned and did not move. "But why?"

"I said get out" he repeated a little louder.

"What's wrong Matthew?"

"you're here when I told you to get out!" his voice was shaky as if he was about to cry and this did not escape Francis's perception. He stepped a little closer, not wanting to leave until he knew that Matthew was okay.

"Please don't push me away Mattie, I want to help"

"I said get out!" he yelled at him, the loudest the Frenchman had ever heard the soft spoken boy. Matthew rolled over to allow Francis to see the tears staining his cheeks. He grabbed the pillow from the bed and held it up in a threat to throw it.

Francis hesitated a moment before stepping out of the room. He sat down against the wall and held his head in his hands.

Returning with his cup of tea, Arthur looked down and the distressed man.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I saw that he was awake so I went in. He was crying and I wanted to comfort him and know what's wrong. He just kicked me out. He wouldn't let me help"

Arthur paused a moment before entering the room after a little protest form the other man. As soon as he opened the door he was met with a pillow to the face, surprising aim and strength for someone as weak as Matthew was. He sighed and picked up the offending object.

"you are unarmed now, you are going to have to talk sooner or later"

"I don't want you here! Yu never cared before, you are only here because Francis called you"

"Then why did you kick him out? You need to talk to at least one of us Matthew."

"Neither of you care! You will just forget about me again once I get out of here. You will think I'm fine, that I'm stable and you will leave"

"Matthew, this is serious. We won't leave you like this"

"You did last time!"

"This is the first I have ever heard of you being like this! We care, we love you and we want you to be happy. You should have come talk to me instead of trying to kill yourself!"

"I have tried to talk to you and you never listen! I can never get your attention. I'm invisible and unheard until someone points me out. I've tried calling you, I've tried catching you during the meetings, trying to talk to you and you ignore me! Like everybody else!" Matthew nearly screamed.

"Well you should have found help before you did this!" Arthur retorted in a matching volume.

"Get out"

"NO, I'm here now and we are going to talk about this"

"You missed your chance! Last time I ended up here I had the nurse call you. I wanted to talk to you, I wanted you here because I thought you would finally listen, that you cared. She said you answered and that you said you would come but you never did! You are only here because Francis wanted you here, You don't care about me! You just wanted another excuse to flaunt your little love hate relationship with him. You come when he calls why can't you do the same for me?!You don't care about me! You never did! I lived with you for years and you ignored me until I did something wrong, then you yelled at me, or hit me even if it wasn't my fault! I was just Alfred's little whipping boy, I always got the blame. So get out, I don't want you here, You missed your chance!" He yelled to the best of his ability, failing to keep his breathing steady through the intense stream of tears.

Arthur just stood there in shock. He didn't say another word, simply walked out.

Francis glanced up at him. "You beat him? He was only just a child!"

"You were listening in?"

"That's not the point! No wonder he kept trying to run back to me those first few years, you kept dragging him back."

"I was his father it was none of your business how I disciplined them, you were never a father to him"

"At least I loved him!"

"Well he is your bloody problem now, you always wanted him back after the war. He's yours you deal with him" with that said he walks away.

The Frenchman was now alone, debating on whether or not to attempt to go in to speak with Matthew. After a few minutes of mental banter he got up and knocked on the door. When he did not receive an answer he slowly opened the door and peeked in.

Laying in the bed with his arms over his face it was obvious that Matthew was crying.

Francis stepped inside and shut the door behind him quietly. He silently walked closer and sat on the edge of the bed. Matthew peeked up from behind his arms. Francis had expected to see a red and puffy face from crying but he was met with ghost white skin and dull eyes. Francis stayed still, awaiting Matthew's reaction to his presence. Was he going to kick him out, or let him stay?

A long moment passed and the tension in the air was almost tangible. Matthew eventually leaned closer and wrapped his arms around him.

"I'm sorry" he murmured, barely audible.

"No need to apologize, it's alright" Francis lightly ran his hand over Matthew's long blonde hair, deciding that it was not the time to discuss earlier events.

Matthew pulled away, curling up against himself and continued to cry. Francis adjusted himself on the bed, leaning back against the wall and pulling Matthew closer. It took a moment for him to adjust but he relaxed and cuddled up to him, laying his head against Francis's waist.

"I'm sorry" he repeated.

"I'm serious Matthew. IT's fine, you don't need to apologize, just promise me that you will come to me next time, before you hurt yourself. If I don't listen like you say, don't stop trying until I do listen. I'm here for you. I love you, my little babe" Francis spoke softly, while running his hand over Matthew's soft wavy hair in a comforting motion. "It's alright, it's going to be okay. I promise I won't leave you"

Matthew's stream of tears intensified as he listened to Francis speak. His body shook from the sobs, breaking up his breathing into desperate gasps for air. His body already struggled to compensate for the lack of oxygen carrying blood in his body and this breathing pattern was only making it harder.

"Breathe, babe, calm down, don't cry, please" Francis pleaded. Matthew was unable to be comforted and soon passed out, his body's way of forcing him to rest and relax. His breathing still hitched in little sobs after his eyes had fluttered closed, still holding onto Francis as well.

Throughout the night Francis stayed up as long as he could, constantly stroking his fingers through Matthew's hair until his own body's requirement for sleep took over and he drifted off into a dreamless slumber, his fingers still intertwined in the other man's locks.


	3. Tears for the Past

Attempts to Love

Hetalia Franada (France / Canada)

Rated M for Violence, Drug Use, Self-Harm, Suicide attempts, Sexual abuse, child abuse and some explicit sexual content

Trigger warnings galore

Chapter 3

It was the first night in weeks that he had slept through the night, no nightmares to disturb him. He felt safe, for the first time in years, in Francis's arms. His presence in some ways was better than any drug or therapy. He was happy, it seemed to him like it was the first time that had ever happened, at least of the time he could remember.

He woke up the next morning with a small smile, snuggling into Francis a little more, happy that he stayed with him through the night. Francis was already half awake and Matthew's movements gave him that last push to open his eyes. He looked down to see the small smile as he ran his fingers through the younger man's hair again.

"Good Morning" he said in a sing song tone. Matthew didn't know he was awake until he spoke, he jumped, sitting up as quickly as he could manage, causing quite a bit of lightheadedness form the sudden movement.

"I'm sorry" Matthew said quickly.

Francis simply chuckled. "How many times will I have to tell you that you don't need to apologize to me." He gently pulled Matthew back down to lay against his chest. "Just relax" he paused for quite a while, waiting for the other to ease the tension of his muscles. "Do you want to talk?"

"What do you want to talk about?" Matthew asked quietly.

"We can talk about anything. I would like to talk about what you did yesterday and why you did it but if you aren't ready to I understand." The Frenchman spoke softly.

"You wouldn't understand" Matthew mumbled as he turned his head so his face was hidden against Francis's chest.

"Try me, I won't judge you, no matter what you say"

"I mean you wouldn't understand why I did it if you don't know what happened; I am not ready to talk about that"

"Well whenever you are ready I will be here to listen, I promise"

"I guess the only thing that you might understand is I have always felt lonely, Arthur never cared about me when I was living with him, I was basically Alfred's whipping boy and that's it. After I moved out I didn't have anybody, Alfred was too busy with his life and Arthur still didn't care. You were preoccupied with the wars, everyone was, and after that I was just as invisible to you as I was to everybody else. I live alone. I don't have friends. I don't have any voice whatsoever in the meetings, nobody ever listens when I speak. I don't have anybody to talk to, the only person that ever even noticed me is the one person I will never go to again." By the time he was finished with his little speech he was starting to cry again and Francis had resumed stroking his fingers through his hair trying to comfort him. It wasn't as bad as the night before, just quiet sobs that left little wet patches in the fabric of Francis's shirt.

"You have me now, I promise I won't leave you again, I swear"

Matthew said nothing, just cried against him until he calmed down.

Francis stayed quiet, simply running his fingers through his hair while the other arm hugged him close. He waited until he heard Matthew's breathing even out once more.

"How about we talk about something a little happier. Do you still play hockey?"

"No, I got kicked off of the team about six years ago" he admitted quietly.

"Why did you get kicked off?" he asked gently, partially afraid of the answer. Matthew just held up his arm that had the bandaging around the wrist although some of the previous scars were still visible.

"They found out about the cutting, they kicked me off because it inhibited my ability to play"

"Well I am a little glad they did, it makes the game a lot more dangerous when you are low on blood like that"

"That was the last thing that made me happy, the only thing I had where I didn't feel so alone, it only got worse after that"

"I'm sorry" he decided to ask the question that he really wanted to but he knew it would upset him. "So... you have been hurting yourself like this for six years?"

Matthew simply nodded. "longer actually, about seven"

"But trying to kill yourself just started recently, right?"

"A few months when I really started trying, there were a few attempts within the last three years"

"Why didn't you try to find help? come to me or any of the other nations? or a therapist?"

"I have tried talking to you, some of the others too. I went to multiple therapists, I stopped going to each one after nothing helped, they just gave me medication and tried to have me talk, none of it worked, they gave me everything on the market for anti depressants and nothing worked. I stopped trying to go to therapists for help after one just made it so much worse." The last sentence came out as a quiet squeak, like just the thought of it caused him pain.

"What did he do?"

That one question broke his control on the tears again and he started sobbing, holding onto Francis even tighter. "H-He... He... touched... m-me" he admitted through the sobs that shook his body.

Francis knew just by the way that Matthew had said it where that touch had been and that it was not welcome. He just held him closer, waiting for Matthew to calm down again.

"I will not let that happen to you again, I swear"

"He got caught doing the same thing to somebody else. He is in prison for probably the rest of his life now because enough people testified against him" Matthew explained, a few sobs still breaking up his words.

"That's great, at least you will never have to see him again and he will pay for his crimes" Francis whispered softly.

"That's all I want to say, I don't want to talk about this anymore, please" He whined.

"That's okay, I won't force you to tell me anything. Thank you for telling me this much though"

They sat in silence for quite a while. Matthew drifted in and out of sleep after his crying stopped. Francis stayed awake trying to process everything he had been told. He knew that Matthew hadn't told him everything and just hoped that soon he would know the full story so he would be better able to help.

Matthew eventually fell asleep and stayed asleep for about half an hour until the nightmares began to plague his subconscious. He started to whine and whimper in his sleep, drawing Francis's attention who began to stroke his fingers through his hair again, hoping to soothe him back into a calm slumber. Matthew only shied away from the touch as the whines got louder.

Francis shook him awake gently. Matthew jolted awake with a cry, nearly falling off the small bed as he quickly pulled away from Francis.

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down. It was just a nightmare, it's only me. you are safe" Francis reassured him softly, catching him before he could fall.

It took a moment before Matthew recognized that he was awake, once the realization set in he nearly lunged at Francis, hugging him tightly, trying to hold back the tears.

"Go ahead and cry if you want, it's not healthy to hold it in like that" Francis said as he held him close. Part of him considered him as just a scared child, but he knew that he was an adult that has been through so much more than him that he couldn't hope to understand how he felt or how broken he really was. What really scared him was that Matthew hadn't told him everything and what had not been said was most likely the worst of it.

The rest of the day progressed with Matthew taking small naps, a visit from the nurse informing them that Matthew had to stay in the hospital for another day and would only be allowed to leave if he agreed to have somebody watch over him for the next week or two. Francis gladly took the job as his caregiver. After the nurse left they went through the plans of where they were going to stay and when would Francis come to check on him.

Francis didn't want to leave him alone anyway but now he had an excuse to stay with him and not be completely overbearing.

They agreed that Francis would spend the days with Matthew at his house, only leaving him alone for the European nation's meetings. Although he knew he wanted him to stay Matthew insisted that Francis went home for the nights, afraid that his nightmares would disrupt his sleep too often. They argued on that point, Matthew stressing that he had muddled through them for years and he could handle it on his own. Francis only agreed to it after he made Matthew swear that he would call him if he got too upset at night.

The rest of the day passed without much of an incident, no more tears. Francis only got out of the bed to go get some food from the cafeteria, returning just a few minutes later to find Matthew curled up, watching the door, waiting for his return. Matthew ate very little, claiming that the medication still made him a little nauseous. Francis finished off his plate, setting Matthew's aside for him to eat later. They played a few card games until Matthew started to drift off again.

"Do you want me to stay here with you tonight again?" Francis asked as he cleaned up the last game they had played, stuffing the cards back in the box.

"Only if you want to" he mumbled sleepily. "I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to go home and sleep in a decent bed tonight, at least there you would be able to change clothes"

"I don't mind it here. I can just take a shower here and I could sleep in the chair."

"You can share the bed with me again, if you want" he offered shyly. "But don't you want to change clothes?"

"What is wrong with what I am wearing?"

"Tear stains on the front of your shirt and there is some of my blood on the cuff of your left arm. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about me and especially don't worry about the shirt. I can buy a new shirt, You, mon cheri, are irreplaceable." he cooed as he leaned over and kissed his forehead. Matthew tensed at the kiss but forced himself to relax.

"So can I bunk with you tonight then?"

"Yeah" Matthew said weakly.

Francis climbed into the bed as Matthew moved over. After he got settled in the bed Matthew curled up next to him, taking a similar position to how he had slept the night before, hoping that the Francis's calming effect would remain with him for the night to keep the nightmares away.


	4. Breaking Barriers

Attempts to Love

Hetalia Franada (France / Canada)

Rated M for Violence, Drug Use, Self-Harm, Suicide attempts, Sexual abuse, child abuse and some explicit sexual content

Trigger warnings galore

Chapter 4

It was nearly two in the morning and Matthew was wide awake. He was rather surprised that the whines and whimpers in his sleep had not woken up Francis who slept soundly next to him. He was trying to calm down enough to go back to sleep but every time he closed his eyes the nightmare returned and jolted him awake once more. Currently he was sitting in the small bed, shying away from any contact with Francis as he held his knees to his chest. His face was hidden against his knees as he took slow, deep breaths to calm himself. Usually there were tears that accompanied these horrible dreams but this time he managed to stay calm, afraid to wake Francis.

After about fifteen minutes of being awake, Francis began to stir. Part of him realized that Matthew was no longer curled up at his side. About a minute later he opened his eyes to find the ball that was Matthew.

"Mattie?" he asked quietly, trying to get his attention without startling him. "Are you okay?"

He jumped slightly when he heard his name but muttered: "I'm fine".

Francis sat up and wrapped an arm around him gently. "Come on and lay back down with me, try to go back to sleep"

Matthew looked up at him, barely able to make out any of his features in the dark room.

Francis pulled him a little closer so he was gently pressed to his chest and laid them back down. "It will be alright, do you want to talk about it?"

"No, just go back to sleep" he replied quietly.

"Remember that you can tell me anything okay" he cooed quietly as he kissed his forehead.

Matthew tensed and fell silent at the touch of his lips. The tension went unnoticed by Francis who moved down to kiss the tip of his nose then give a light peck to his lips. Matthew's stunned silence broke as he burst into panicked tears as he tried to push Francis away. It took a moment for Francis to realize what Matthew was trying to do and what he had done wrong. He instantly sat up throwing out a series of apologies as Matthew continued to cry, nearly yelling for him to not touch him, to get out.

Francis stood from the bed but refused to leave the room, breaking all contact with the panicked boy.

"Mattie, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I didn't realize what I was doing. I never meant to upset you." Francis was panicking, stumbling through his words, trying to get Matthew to understand and calm down.

After a few moments of tears Matthew calmed down enough to speak coherently. "I'm sorry, I-I just panicked."

"Do you still want me to leave?" Francis asked quietly.

It took him a moment before he shook his head. "You can sleep in the chair if you want" he offered shakily as he curled up on his side, facing Francis. "Anything like that just scares me now. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. I should have known that you wouldn't want anything like that" Francis replied sadly.

"It's not that I don't like you" he interjected. "I wish I could do those kinds of things but it's almost like a subconscious response to anything that is similar to... my past" he tried to explain.

Francis sighed and sat quietly. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? You don't have to answer anything that you don't want to, you can stop at any time I just want to know"

Matthew nodded nervously.

"What did that therapist do to you? I know he touched you in ways you didn't like, I was just hoping you could tell me more"

He froze at the question and stayed quiet for a moment before answering: "H-he said that in order to get over it I had to learn how to enjoy being t-touched like that. He laid down with me on the couch before I knew what he was doing then held me against him and k-kissed me. I- I tried to get him off and get away from him but he kept going. He started out with gentle kisses, l-like you just did but he wouldn't let me go, saying that it was part of the treatment. That I had to be able to relax. I tried to scream but nobody could hear me or they just didn't c-care. By the time I managed to push him off he had gotten my p-pants down and was stroking me." Sobs broke up his story as he curled up against himself.

"Is it okay for me to hold you like I did before?" wanting to comfort him, to hold him gently until he calmed down. His reply was just a shake of the head.

Francis sat down in the chair next to the bed instead. "Can I ask more questions?" This time he got a nod as Matthew wiped away the tears and tried to steady his breathing.

"Is he the only one who has touched you like that?"

"N-no" he stuttered out.

"Are you a virgin?" The answer was the same teary negative.

"Did you ever consent to any of it?" This time he didn't answer out loud, just shook his head.

"I'm so sorry" Francis choked out. "Who did this to you?" he asked quietly.

It took him quite a while before he had enough control over his breathing through the sobs to speak. "I-I don't know his real name. People just c-called him big d-daddy"

"Did he ever pay for his crimes?"

Matthew just shook his head.

"I will make sure that he goes to prison for the rest of his life for this"

"Don't" he choked out.

"Why not?! He deserves to rot in a cell for hurting you like that"

"Putting him on trial would just bring out things about me that could possibly put me in prison!" he nearly yelled before falling back into his crying.

Francis was stunned silent for quite a while. "If you just tell me I could help keep those things hidden"

"Their defense would be that I was prostituting" he admitted. "for illegal drugs" he added shyly.

"Drugs?" Francis repeated lamely.

"I stole from him," he gently brushed his hair out of the way to reveal a scar on his left temple. "He shot me, the bullet only grazed but just a centimeter to the right and it probably would have killed me. Sometimes I wish he had killed me"

"Don't say that!" he snapped. "And I don't care what you say, I don't think I could ever believe that you asked for that. With what I have seen, the damage that did there is no way that you consented to it. You were not prostituting. He raped you and he should pay, they can't charge you for the drugs if you are clean now and I doubt they would try to persecute you for stealing from him in comparison to what he did to you"

"I've tried going to the police and they don't care about me! They just passed me off as a prostitute that wasn't happy with payment. I couldn't pay, he raised prices and I had already taken the hit so he said I could pay with my body." The stream of tears increased. "He didn't give me a choice" He mumbled through the hiccupping sobs.

Francis got up and sat down in the bed, pulling Matthew close to him and holding him tightly to his chest. "I'm so sorry babe" he cooed in a whisper as the other cried against his chest.

It took longer than any of the other times he had gotten upset before he finally calmed down. It had gotten to the point where he was coughing and ready to pass out before he got his breathing under control enough to stop the hyperventilation and calm down. Francis held him through the entire thing, gently rocking him and stroking his fingers through his hair to comfort him.

After the crying passed Matthew didn't say a word, didn't eat, didn't sleep.

Despite Francis's efforts to get him to react, to reply to anything, he still remained silent, a sad expression fixed in his features as he kept his attention directed to the blank white wall.

Over twenty-four hours passed. Francis did not sleep or leave the room, afraid that if he left the boy would break down again without anyone to comfort him.

He only broke silence to reply to the nurses, putting on the false front that he was fine that let him go home earlier and yet he still acted as though Francis wasn't there. Part of him wanted Francis to leave, to forget everything he had been told because he never wanted anybody to know how messed up and broken he was. He was afraid that he would hate him for what he had done, or see him like he sees himself. He kept himself hidden behind walls protecting his heart, learning that everyone that had ever seemed to care always abandoned him and took another shard of his shattered heart. He really didn't want Francis to leave, he wanted someone to prove him wrong. He wanted Francis to stay and help him break down the barriers that he had built years before. He was terrified to let him in and yet he knew he needed help, that he couldn't shut him out forever.


End file.
